It’s October for the Real Housewives, and you know what that means: do you? Because I have no idea what that means. These women’s lives are such vacuous shadowplays of human existence, shuttled from one publicity event to the next, constantly grasping with ghost claws at whatever shred of meaning they can find in the purchase of a handbag or the somewhat mean-spirited reference in a third-tier gossip column, that I can’t honestly believe that the changing of the seasons holds any real meaning for them. Maybe they sling a coat over their arm for the red carpet photographers on their way into yet another teeth whitening product release party? So they opt to push the pomegranate-scented calamari around on their plate indoors instead of out? When they trace the razor up and down the length of their forearm, they push it in a little deeper, just enough to leave a crease, before burying their heads in their hands and sobbing?

Or nothing. It means nothing at all.

So LuAnn’s daughter is home for the first time since leaving for boarding school. Now that I know she’s getting divorced, I can’t help but watch her scenes of domestic bliss (or if not bliss, then at least quiet resignation) with a somewhat more charitable attitude. It’s not that she’s any less ridiculous or nightmarish of a person. She’s the (second) absolute worst (after Kelly), and no amount of divorce will change that. But that’s the sweet sting of dramatic irony. Watching her putt around her Upper East Side townhouse like she doesn’t have a care in the world, because she doesn’t–she hardly even cares about her children–all the while knowing that in just a few short months this sham world is going to collapse on her in a publicly humiliating way, well, you know, a lot of nervous laughter is involved.

Is that a dude dressed up as Chun Li from the Street Fighter videogame? Of course not, that would be ridiculous.

Speaking of publicly humiliating, can we talk about Jill’s interview with the BBC?

Jill Zarin does one good deed a day, anywhere from holding a door for someone to holding an elevator door for someone. She’s basically a charity factory. Look, I’m not saying that Jill wasn’t put in a tough position. No one who is that out of touch with how the world works should be asked to explain anything, ever. I feel like you could interview Jill Zarin about her feelings on lattes and you’d get a couple of pretty serious gaffes. And I do get the sense that she donates some of her husband’s fortune to trying to making the world a better place. But, like, it’s not “funny” that the BBC guy said Africa. When you’re talking about economic inequalities in the world, Africa is a totally common and incredibly legitimate counter-example to a recently renovated penthouse apartment. That’s just not how cute anecdotal coincidences work.

The thing I don’t understand is Jill’s insistence on constantly talking about how hard the economy is. Jill, stop doing that.

GET ME UNDER THAT BUS!

Meanwhile, Kelly is having new headshots taken. For what? Her Facebook profile? She was using some “slightly” out of date photos and people were writing on her wall like “R u rlly 16?” and finally she was like “Maybe it is time 4 a change.” Because of how she’s 40. 40’s not an insult, obviously. I am well into my 40s. But I feel like for her it is an insult, and so it must be constantly repeated. By Kelly’s math, she’s halfway to 50! But she looks good for 40. On the outside. On the inside she looks really really bad for any age.

Anyway, new headshots.

So she decides to use them for an invitation to a Halloween party, and she actually says “I knew that people would say ‘oh my god, that’s so great. That’s so cool’ and then they’d want to be a part of it.” Those are words that left her mouth. Although, to be fair, later she said that she was a mom so she didn’t want to dress outrageously for Halloween, which is why she chose this subtle, tasteful mom costume. Or momstume.

Total MILK. The point being, it’s not like Kelly ever has any idea what the fuck she is talking about. The inside of her brain is like a bunch of Cheetos stuck inside a tub of cream cheese.

So everyone is mad at Kelly because she showed up really late to her party and they were all standing around like (more of) a bunch of assholes (than usual). Fair enough, although shouldn’t everyone always be mad at Kelly for the simple fact that she’s a wretched, wretched monster? I feel like the party is just grease icing on the poison cake.

Wow. It’s weird that Alex got fired from her graphic design job, since she’s so good at it. Sarcasm. That is literally the worst thing I have ever seen. Unless Bethenny is changing the name of her company to Whoops That’s Our Logo, in which case, perfect.